Almost Angelic
by AshesAndInk
Summary: She thought he would be her prey. She never imagined he would be her escape. He thought she would be a monster. He never imagined she would be his friend. The Doctor and one of his mortal enemies, thrust together in a bizarre turn of events, solving mysteries across space and time that are more connected than the two think. Sacrifices will be made, but never forgotten.
1. Introduction

Introduction—

Hunger.

That painful hunger that grips one like a fist, that is somehow worse than death, that Grips you like a cold, skeletal fist, that results in millennia without prey.

Possibly better described as starvation.

But she didn't know that word. She had been waiting here for as long as she could remember, longing for something, she was hungry, so hungry. The soft flapping of wings fluttered around her, the familiar sound that used to be so comforting, getting steadily softer by the year.

She had been here forever, it seemed.

She was hungry.

She laid on the ground, muttering something in her language, full of shrieks and yells. Someone replied, and she sighed in relief.

 _It won't be long now,_ a low, silky smoothe voice replied as something warm stroked the feathers on her back.

 _How can you be so sure?_ She hissed back, narrowing her eyes, but staring straight at the rocks in front of her.

 _I can feel it._

The girl rolled her eyes in the dark. She had never believed all this stuff about the one, the one who would come and bring them the energy they needed.

But it was their only hope. There wasn't much else in this dull crypt, full of bones and water. Not much at all.

 _It will be all right,_ the woman above her smiled.

She couldn't see the smile. Why would she look at her own mother? Looking at someone is the highest insult among their people, especially in the eye.

But she could hear the smile. In her mother's voice, in her actions, the way she stroked her daughter's feathers gents, so gently.

She loved her mother. That was why she didn't look at her.

 _I believe you_ , the girl sighed, closing her eyes in restful peace.

She didn't know how long she had been asleep. She didn't know if she had been asleep at all. But her eyes snapped open at a strange sound, a coughing and wheezing like the elders of her people…

But this was metallic. Her people hadn't built things in centuries—it involved looking at people. Nobody wanted that.

But the girl opened her eyes, and they sparked in the light, the first light she'd seen since… she couldn't even remember.

She pushed herself to her feet, gazing curiously at a slowly appearing object, something that looked like a blue box with a dazzling light on top. This didn't look like anything she'd seen before—what was going on?

Suddenly, someone burst out the doors.

A strange man shouting strange words, and waving a strange glowing object over his head like a mad man. He looked straight at her and froze.

But in the blink of an eye, she was gone.


	2. Complicated

Complicated—

He loved the TARDIS.

He loved the sound the metal grating on the floor made when he danced around the circular control panel in the center of the main room. He relished in the extensive amount of levers, buttons, and switches, and how he knew them best, and by heart. By now, he could open the TARDIS doors with a snap of his fingers, and he was always finding new rooms he'd never seen before.

And the round things.

He _loved_ the round things!

The tall man whirled around the control room, a big grin on his face and a rugged pair of plimsoles on his feet. His dark brown hair swooped over his face in spiky strands, and his rich brown eyes gleamed with excitement. He repeated his name—or what people tended to call him—in his head a few times, just to boost his excitement even higher.

 _I am the Doctor. The Doctor._ His grin widened as he stroked the controls of the TARDIS lovingly.

The TARDIS was his friend, and she was a faithful one, at that. He could trust her to take him anywhere he needed to be, as long as he took care of her—which he did… except for those times, too many to count, where she had been damaged or crashed during a battle or an awkward landing.

But that's what friends were for, right?

Most of all, the TARDIS helped him forget. Only recently, he had left his latest companion—a redhead with an air of authority and quite a bit of sass on her side—who had gone by the name of Donna.

Donna Noble.

She'd been a genius ever since she'd become part Time Lord just before he'd gone, but maybe he was just complimenting himself.

The Doctor sighed, his elated mood suddenly gone, vanished like Donna's memory. She'd never remember him. Never.

Why did he keep letting himself do this? It only caused pain, to him and his companions—not to mention his family.

Well… it was complicated.

 _No,_ he shook his head roughly. _Not today_. Today was a time to forget, to just be happy—something he forgot to do way too much. But today was the day.

"Hmmm…" he began to run wildly around the TARDIS's ramps and pathways, practically forcing thoughts like that out of his mind for the time being. "What's a place that makes me happy…?"

He darted around a bit more, like a busy honeybee.

"Someplace on Earth, maybe… how about Bermuda?" He suggested, not entirely sure if he was talking to himself, the TARDIS, or if he was just so used to having a Companion that he rambled on anyways.

"No, no, no…" He shook his head vigorously, "last time I was there, I might have accidentally destroyed a few planes…"

He slowed down a bit in his movements, his face growing distant and glassy-eyed.

"…or something like that."

Almost immediately, however, his head snapped back up, and his face lit up again.

"Or maybe prehistoric Earth! The dinosaurs were…" his face, once again, adopted that same vague, slightly confused look. "…no, not that at all. You know what?" he looked up at the big column of tubes and pumps that rested, waiting, in the center of the TARDIS's main room. "How about… Cheem!"

he began to laugh in glee at the very thought of that planet he hadn't seen in so long…

"Well!" he begins clicking in coordinates, flicking switches, doing all the things he was best at until the engines began to wheeze and the buttons began to flash.

"Allons-y."

"Cheem!"

He burst through the doors of the TARDIS, ecstasy written all over his face.

Outside was a cave. Dark. Gloomy. Wet. And the exact opposite of what he'd been expecting.

"Well," he shrugged, unfazed, "definitely not Cheem."

He held up his sonic, letting its blue-green light filter through the cracks of the rocky walls. A sound caught his ear, the sound of fluttering wings. He looked up, and just to his right was a statue.

It was of an angel, wings spread behind her, her face covered by long, spindly hands.

* * *

 **A/N This is just after "Journey's End", and if what i write here doesn't go with anything in the next few episodes, please don't sue me**


	3. Making History

Making History—

She hissed softly to herself, glaring fiercely at the man. Who was he? Was he human? He certainly looked so. But… how did he get here? Was that blue box some sort of ship...?

Multitudes of questions whirled around her head like the annoying cave gnats that sometimes spawned in the darkness.

She shook her head to clear it of all those annoying thoughts, and immediately wished she hadn't. Whispers of the "Ultimate Source", and the "Life-Giver" echoed lightly around the cave, and the girl rolled her eyes. Really? There was prey _right_ in front of them, and they were focused on a _fairy tale?_

 _No matter,_ she thought to herself, clenching her pale hands into fists. _I can just do this myself. Maybe they'll actually be grateful for once._

But, as she prepared herself to move towards him the next time he blinked, he backed back into his little blue box, slamming the doors closed.

 _No!_ The girl screamed, punching the hard stone wall, leaving a spider web of cracks behind. Her fists shook violently, and her chest heaved as she took in huge, furious gulps of breath. She had just let him go! Her first prey in millennia, and she had let him go!

Now it seemed that the toll taken on her from lack of that precious, nourishing time energy was even stronger than before, sucking at her life source like a parasite.

Just as she reared back to give the wall another nice punch, the doors opened again. The huntress didn't hesitate a split second before darting down the slope of the cave and pressing herself up against a side of the box. Now was her chance. And she would, by no means, let her prey get away this time.

"Hello?" The man stuck his head out of the doors, turning it this way and that. She could feel her flesh turn to stone as his gaze fell on her, but it didn't linger—she was swathed in shadow like a deadly assassin.

Which she was.

He didn't seem to notice her, and his stare swept back over to the other side of the cave. The young woman felt her skin turn back to normal, regaining what little heat it had before, and she took a deep breath, slowly raising her index finger—the part that harnessed her power.

She peeked out from behind the box, and saw that the stranger was facing directly away from her. She grinned evilly.

The girl rushed out of her hiding place, her feet pattering rapidly against the sharp stones that carpeted the floor at lightning speed. She spread her wings, ready to slice his neck with their razor-sharp edges if he caused too much trouble and would be better off dead.

She was almost there, her finger millimeters away from his head, and the world seemed to move in slow motion as she darted to what would be sure to feed her and the rest of her people for a century more, give or take. Her heart pounded, and it seemed to be the only thing moving for a second.

The second that, in one fluid motion, he whirled around with a huge grin on his face and shot her hand with a strange-looking ray gun.

The young hunter was blasted back, nothing more than a stony statue now, and crashed into the rocky wall behind her, turning back to flesh and blood just before she hit, so she didn't shatter. He had turned away and was preparing to close the doors. The girl looked around to see the rest of her people begin to crowd the box, staying a safe distance from it at first, scared that they would be shot back as well, or worse.

The man reached over, beginning to close the doors.

That was it.

Her chance was gone.

Or maybe not.

The huntress narrowed her eyes.

"Not today."

She leapt up, tucking in her wings and pushing herself off the wall, heading straight for the opening of the half-closed door.

She would do this.

She _would_ do this.

The girl burst though the doors, a few feathers scraping off her wings as she slid through, tumbling to a stop on the far side of a huge room. She only had time for one thought as the box began to wheeze, just as before, and her family and friends were left once more in an empty cave.

 _It's bigger on the inside._


	4. Rivalry

Rivalry—

The Doctor barely got the door shut. As soon as he'd bolted back inside the TARDIS, he'd nudged the doors closed and darted to the controls, running his hands along the buttons and levers before punching in the coordinates for Earth—still fresh in his mind, it was the first place he thought of, and he could always change it later.

He slumped against the control panel, letting out a relieved sigh.

Then he noticed that the doors were still wide open. They must've swung back after he'd pushed them—apparently, a simple nudge hadn't been enough. The tall man rushed back to the doors and shoved them closed, his hearts beating rapidly in his chest. He leaned against them to push them closed, but was met with some resistance. The Doctor squeezed his eyes shut, pushing as hard as he could, and the opposing force let out, almost immediately. The doors clicked shut.

He would have gladly collapsed, then and there, to catch his escaping breath, but he had to get out of the cave as soon as possible. Already, he could feel the angels outside beginning to rock the TARDIS back and forth, trying to shake him out.

The Doctor ran back to the central controls, panting out of fear and lack of breath, and stumbling to one side as his ship suddenly lurched to the left.

But he made it to the panel, pushing a certain lever with both hands and feeling his hearts suddenly grow lighter. That was close.

The TARDIS shook violently, rocking around as if it were in an earthquake for several seconds before growing suddenly still, and the Doctor knew he was in the clear. He let out a deep sigh, putting a hand on the TARDIS's rails.

"Why'd you take me there, old girl?"

There was no answer. The Doctor narrowed his eyes slightly and felt his hair stand on end.

He was not alone. Someone—more likely, some _thing_ —was in the TARDIS with him.

And he could easily guess what it was.

"Show yourself!" he shouted, turning around to gaze at the rest of the main room. Nothing was there. He blinked a few times, giving the angel a chance to come out, but nothing happened.

"Where are you…?" he muttered to himself, cautiously tiptoeing around the control panel.

She groaned slightly, clutching her head as the mysterious man's shouts sent daggers of pain shooting through her skull. No, she most definitely would _not_ "show herself", that dolt.

She felt him coming around the corner, the vibrations that spiraled through the metal grating getting slightly rougher every time his foot fell. She made up her mind immediately, crawling away from him at her blazing fast speeds until she was on the opposite side. Still, he kept on walking, oblivious.

 _It would probably be to my best interests to kill him now,_ the girl thought, once again the huntress. She peered out from behind what seemed to be some sort of dashboard that circled around the center of the room. There he was, creeping around the ramps, and he appeared to be alone.

 _This should be easy_ , the young woman narrowed her eyes, a slight smile forming on her lips. She wouldn't be starving for much longer.

The Doctor heard the footsteps clearly as he rounded the bend, light and fast, almost imperceptible—but he knew what to look for. The angel would be behind him any minute now. He just had to listen…

There! The footsteps sounded again, and he immediately whirled around, aiming his Sonic (though he wasn't exactly sure what he would do with it), and…

He yelped in surprise.

There stood a young woman, maybe in her twenties or so, bolting towards him faster than he could even keep up with.

But she didn't stop.

And it was obvious that the Doctor wasn't the only one confused by this.

Her eyes widened in shock, and tried desperately to recover in time to jab her index finger into his neck, but he managed to dodge with about as much grace as a Tyrannosaurus Rex doing jumping jacks.

She tried to stop herself, but the momentum was too strong, and she ran straight into the wall. That was when the Doctor got a good look at her.

As she pushed herself to her feet, dazed, the first thing the Doctor noticed was her wings.

They were huge, and they were only barely able to rest without dragging on the floor. They were made up of huge, pure white feathers that eventually faded into a vivid forest green halfway down, and that green then faded to a bright orange at the tips of the wings. Then he saw her hair. It was a ruddy brown and pinned up in a messy bun, and the loose locks that he could see faded into a fiery orange at the ends. Her features were pale and angular, and her hands were thing and long.

But his gaze was always drawn to her eyes.

They were large and wide, and the iris was a blazing, ever changing fire that constantly flickered red, gold, orange, and blue, and it was rimmed deeply in black. She caught him staring, and those flaming orbs narrowed.

Before she could move, he darted to a different place in the TARDIS, throwing open a hatch and rummaging through it. The girl looked on, confused. Eventually, he pulled out a strange-looking device with a mirror sticking out at an odd angle.

"Hold still," he commanded, pointing the mirror at her. She didn't even have time to argue before the device beeped noisily, making her clutch at her slightly pointed ears. The man's eyes widened, as he read the words displayed on a screen.

 _Weeping Angel_.

"Who are you?" he demanded, tossing the machine to the side.

She opened her fanged mouth to speak, and the spiky-haired brunette was surprised to hear her speak English.

"My people call me Swift," she hissed, and her voice was clear and strong. "Who are you?"

A slight grin touched his face.

"I'm the Doctor."


	5. Unbreakable

Unbreakable—

The Doctor.

What kind of a name was that?

Swift bared her fangs in an annoyed snarl when she caught him looking her in the eyes again.

 _A strange name for a strange man, I guess,_ she thought bitterly, her gaze drifting away from his chocolate eyes automatically, finally resting on his dirty white shoes.

 _Yep. Definitely strange._

"Why do you call yourself the Doctor?" she hissed, still feeling bitter dislike towards the man.

"Well," he shrugged, a proud and somewhat embarrassed grin spreading across his features, "I guess its because I go around, righting wrongs, saving the day, you know," his grin faded into a faintly rueful expression, "generally."

"Then _why,"_ Swift took a few steps towards the Doctor, "did you take me away? Those were my _friends_ , my _family._ Why did you take me away?"

"Er, well…" he faltered, obviously uncomfortable, "I just wasn't aware that… weeping angels had… you know…"

"Had…?" Swift prodded mercilessly.

"Feelings." The Doctor shifted his weight between his feet. The winged girl growled dangerously.

" _Also,"_ the Doctor rushed to defend himself, his face reddening, "I didn't mean to go there, I didn't know that was your family, I didn't know you were _in my TARDIS—_ why were you in here, anyway? _"_

"Whatever," she lowered her head even further. Suddenly, time energy seemed like such a trivial thing. How much did one life give her, anyways? Maybe a century, at most—and one of living at only slightly above her weakest state. This guy most definitely wasn't worth it anymore. "Just take me back."

The Doctor winced.

"Ah, _that's_ where we have a bit of a problem." He began to pace, stopping every once in a while to check something on the controls. "You see, _I_ didn't mean to go there. The TARDIS is the one who took me to you, and only she can take you back."

" _She?_ " Swift gawked. This guy must be mental!

"She put in the coordinates," the Doctor ignored the angel, "not me—so I don't know them, and I can't go back."

The auburn-haired huntress stumbled back, as if physically punched.

" 'A bit of a problem'?" she quoted, feeling red-hot anger flare up inside her. "Is that what you would call this? Do you even get what's going on?"

"I'd like to think I do," the Doctor nodded, automatically taking offense, "You're a weeping angel, you need to get back home."

" _That's not it!"_ the girl screamed, her wings flaring out behind her and her eyes glowing a deep crimson flecked with black. " _You_ are the one who did _this_ to me!" she gestured at her body, obviously not stone. She turned from him and punched the wall of the TARDIS in her fury. Most people would have cried out or screamed in pain—it was nearly indestructible. But she only whirled back around, breathing hard out of anger. Her fist was unscathed.

The Doctor took a few curious steps closer and was shocked to see… yes, a _dent_ , however small, in the metal that made up the inside of the TARDIS! He'd never really taken the time to think about weeping angels before—he'd never really thought he'd needed to, either. They move lightning fast, and when you see them, they turn to stone. Simple as that, right?

Wrong.

And now he could actually learn from one! Never, in all the centuries he'd been alive, had he imagined what a weeping angel would be like when she wasn't stone. And now was his chance—the chance of a lifetime… or ten, apparently.

And also…

The Doctor shook his head. He didn't want to remember Donna now… though he _did_ want her to remember him.

But it was all for the best, really.

Swift could only stare, astounded at the Doctor's apparently uninterested expression.

"Do you even know what this means?" she hissed, her fangs glinting dangerously in the light. The Doctor looked up, intrigued, and utterly grateful for a distraction.

"I can't use time energy anymore."

"What?" the brown-eyed man shot up, eyes wide. He knew enough about weeping angels to know that this was very bad.

"I don't have much left stored up," Swift slumped over, already feeling herself growing weaker. Her wings began to droop, and her eyes dulled. "I can't use any of what you would call my 'powers'. I'm totally cut off from it, or from using it as an energy source, at least."

"But then, how would you live?" the Doctor didn't sound as unconcerned as he'd looked earlier, but the angel could assume he had covered it up.

"The same way you do," Swift rolled her eyes at him, disgusted. "Open those doors. I'm going hunting."

The Doctor obliged, interested to see how this would turn out.


	6. Obsession

Obsession—

Swift strode out of the TARDIS, fuming. A small voice nagged at her, hovering over her like a cave bat, and it wouldn't leave.

 _You could just kill it, you know,_ it told her, as if it were that simple. Which it wasn't.

 _I know,_ the angel thought, _But that moron_ is _my only ride off this place, wherever I am now._ She looked around, pausing in the middle of a huge, grassy plain. Watercolour strands of tall, vibrant emerald grass waved around her, stretching out as far as the eye could see until, just to the left, it met a deep oak forest that was bursting with birdsong.

 _There must be some food there,_ she brightened up at the thought of some energy, then immediately felt guilty. What were her family and friends going through right now?

But she shook her head free of those thoughts, spreading her colourful wings and shooting off towards the woods, her bright white cloak billowing out behind her. The Doctor gasped at the sudden onslaught of wind. He'd have to hurry if he wanted to catch her in action.

Swift landed in the middle of a clearing, taking a moment to close her eyes and revel in the beautiful sound of wind. She didn't even remember if she'd ever heard it before, but she didn't care. She heard it now, and that was all that mattered.

Then she was back to business.

It didn't take long for her to pinpoint the nearest animal—a slight rustle in the leaves and a harsh caw. She immediately sprung towards it, reaching out with her long fingers and baring her fangs. But the bird saw her coming. Swift wasn't as fast as she could be—she was running on pure willpower by now—and she only managed to get herself caught in the branches of the nearest oak.

She growled, furious at herself, but mostly at the bird. It was a big black beast, almost the length of half of her arm. It would be enough, she thought, to get her strong enough to hunt a bit longer.

But first she had to catch it.

The angel waited until it was settled, crouching on a thick tree limb, as still as a statue, until it stopped flapping its wings and began to preen. Then she leapt.

The next thing she knew, her face was rammed into the trunk of the nearest tree, and the raven was, once again, on the other side of the clearing.

But she had been closer.

Swift's blazing eyes flashed vermillion with determination, and she waited once more, barely able to contain herself, her muscles coiled up like a spring trap.

And she leapt.

Her fingertips brushed against soft feathers; she watched as the stupid raven tried to claw its way through the air, and she grasped desperately at the bird's tail.

She missed.

A soft chuckle from below.

" _What?!_ " she whirled around, furious. There was the Doctor, standing at the edge of the tree line.

"Oh, nothing," he grinned widely, showing that it was most definitely something. "Just… watching."

Swift hissed through her teeth and spun back around to try again. There sat the raven, just across the clearing, eyeing her cautiously. She decided she would leave that one alone for now. Perhaps it was time for something other than a bird…

The Doctor voiced her thoughts.

"How about a fish?" he suggested, and Swift turned her head slightly, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. But he didn't sound mocking, as she had expected, nor did he look it. Maybe she should actually take his advice—he probably knew more about wherever they were, anyways, given she had quite literally lived under a rock for who knows how long.

"Fine," she spat, and launched herself off of her branch to fly towards a nearby lake. Sure, she was taking his advice—but that didn't mean she had to like it.

It wasn't long before she saw the fish.

Her eyesight was keen, even after living in a cave for so long, and the water where they swam was shallow. They weaved in and out of the thick reeds that lined the water's edge like deer through a forest, and a slight grin touched the angel's face when she realized that would do nothing but slow them down when they tried to escape her.

She dove, swooping low to he surface, straight towards a particularly slow, fat fish. It never stood a chance.

Swift felt her hands wrap around its fins, and she held on tight so they wouldn't cut her too badly. Her wings pushed up once, twice, and she surged towards the wispy clouds, grinning in triumph. With the energy from this fish, she would _finally_ be able to catch that stupid bird… maybe.

" _Hey, Swift!"_

She looked down to see the Doctor hurrying along through the tall grass, a huge smile on his face. He looked up at her, and his eyes brightened as he caught sight of the fish in her hands.

 _Maybe she'll have enough energy to catch that bird, now,_ he thought as she began her descent, circling down like a flaming hawk to run to a stop just in front of him. There was a huge scowl on her face.

"Come to laugh at me some more?" she growled, narrowing her reddening eyes. "Just try it. I dare you."

"Oh, no," the Doctor shook his head and held up his hands in surrender, the smile never leaving his face, "I just wanted to watch. That was pretty cool, anyways. I've never really seen a weeping angel hunt before—well, hunt anything besides me." His grin widened, and she allowed the ghost of a smile to flicker across her features.

"So was it fun?" he asked practically _dying_ to know more. "It must be nice to stretch your wings and hunt if you've spent as much time as I think you have in that cave."

Swift's face fell back into her normal, slightly angry default expression. The Doctor noticed, his smile suddenly fading when he realized he'd most likely crossed the line.

They walked in silence towards the TARDIS.

"Yeah, it was fun, I guess."

The Doctor's head snapped up, but Swift's expression hadn't changed, and she was still facing forward. He beamed brightly and began to ramble on about something or another, bit Swift tuned out. She'd only said six words—and in response to a _question_ —and he'd taken that as a signal to talk all he wanted.

She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to take a bite of the fish.

"Hey— _Wait!"_ the Doctor exclaimed, eyes wide, and pulled her hands down. She hissed at him, eyes flaming.

"What are you doing?" he cried, "do you _normally_ eat things raw?"

"I don't _normally_ eat things at all." The angel snarled, picking idly at the tail of the near-dead fish.

"Well, here," the man tried to wrestle the fish from her grip. She held on tight, giving him a look that promised death.

" _Trust_ me _,"_ he gave his most convincing smile, but he still had to pry the girl's fingers from the slimy animal.

They walked back to the TARDIS, and the Doctor rummaged through a hatch until he pulled out yet another strange contraption.

"This is a portable stove," he held it up and plugged a large cord into the wall of the TARDIS.

"Watch this."

"Oh my _gosh_ ," Swift took a huge bit of the fish, "this is _fantastic!_ What did you do?"

"Well, I just cooked it and threw on some spice," he shrugged modestly. "I'm really not the best cook—haven't had many chances to be, but—"

"That was _great_ ," Swift stood up, throwing the nearly clean skeleton of the fish at the Doctor's feet, picking her teeth with a bone. "I'll go get more fish."

And, before he could blink, she was gone.


	7. Eternity

Eternity—

 _Swift…_

The huntress's pointed ears perked up at the mention of her name. she looked around, expecting to see the Doctor, but there was nothing but those familiar craggy rock walls that dripped with dew and mold, and a few cave bats that cowered away from her. She started. Was she back home?

 _Mum?_ She called, whirling around to catch sight of her family, _Dad?_

But there was nothing. Not a sound or a sign of movement—the shadows were so thick, they seemed to swallow all traces of light or fading echoes. Swift narrowed her eyes. This wasn't right… she could see in the dark, and better than anyone else.

Suddenly, a hand burst forth from the tangible shadows, a cold, pale hand with skin that was pulled tight around some parts of the bone, and hung limply off others.

Swift took a step back as the rest of the body emerged—a sallow face with taut features, dull orange hair, a tattered white robe, and rotting wings that were a faded white, orange, and green.

 _M—Mum?_ Swift's voice was soft and shaky, and she leaned forward to touch her mother's face.

 _Oh… Swift,_ the older angel looked on at her with pleading eyes, _please, come stay with us…_

As she spoke those words, more hands and arms, wings and legs emerged from out of the deadly night, and a group of solemn angels stepped into what little light surrounded Swift. Their heads were bent, their wings drooped, and their clothes hung off them in tattered clumps.

 _Please,_ they sang in a mournful, heartrending tone, _come back, Swift… come home… Come spend eternity with us…_

As they chanted those despairing words, over and over again, Swift scanned the faces of those surrounding her. Through hooded eyes and matted clumps of hair, she saw each of their faces, the individual features of each beautifully unique angel.

And she saw that they were all strange to her. She did not know these people…

 _Please,_ her mother looked back up at her eyes desperate and begging. _Please, Swift. Come back to us. Come back to your people._

 _I will, Mum,_ she whispered hoarsely, knowing that just being back with her own kind would be enough for them. _I will._

 _Please,_ the woman hardly seemed to hear her, her face looking more worn by the minute. The chanting swelled until it was almost unbearable, a piteous crescendo. Then it went silent, and the silence was almost word.

 _Come home._

Swift shot up in her cot, he wings splayed out at strange angles and her hair a tangled heap. She looked around, hoping against hope to find herself back at home with the other angels.

But it was not to be.

The strange walls of the TARDIS peered back at her, the round things in the walls letting off a faint glow. She hated the round things.

The room she stayed in was small, simply a spare room that branched off of the main control center. It was small enough to suffocate her, small enough to cramp her wings, and small enough to let the thoughts swirl around, ricocheting off the walls like bullets until, one by one, they shot through the girl.

And the bullets all told her the same thing.

 _You have to get home. You have to get home. You have to get home._

And Swift knew it was true. And she knew it had to happen soon.

"I have to get home," she whispered to herself, "I have to get home."

Rust. It was a city of Rust. Flames licked the edges of the buildings, the sky as burnt a dull orange, and the dust was a dismal brown splattered with blood. It was a city of Rust.

A city of pain.

People's screams echoed loudly along the square, bouncing off the dying homes as they caved in and imploded. Mothers and fathers ran with their children, trying to find somewhere, _anywhere_ to hide, and those without families, those thirsting for revenge, fought back, only to collapse in a sudden X-ray of icy blue light and energy.

Harsh, metallic cries of " _Exterminate! Exterminate!"_ rang out starkly above the terrified shouts and sobs of the Time Lords, and chaos walked alongside the rust as the overall theme of the war.

And there was the Doctor, standing in the middle of it all as an unseen statue. He knew what was going on. He remembered this. And he really, _really_ wished he didn't.

A young couple ran past him, tears flowing down their face and mixing with each other's blood until they exploded in a beam of light and collapsed on top of each other in a disheveled heap. He didn't flinch as the remaining individuals that wept for their families and loved ones were cut down, one by one, and as shards of stone and metal flew through him.

He knew this was a dream. It was a dream he'd been having for what seemed to be an eternity.

Something wet fell down the Doctor's face.

He knew it was a dream. But that didn't make it any less painful. It may be a dream, but it was also a memory, a ghost.

The Doctor was tossed back by a violent explosion that seemed to do nothing but fit in with his surroundings, and he turned to stare behind him, the direction it had come from, as he pushed himself to his feet.

And among the rust, among the fire, there were two words that stood out.

No More.


	8. Gateway

Gateway—

Their nightmares woke them at the same time, and they knew it.

The TARDIS was cold and asleep, the only thing still hibernating when they both walked into the control room from opposite ends of the ship. They sat sown, the Doctor leaning on the control panel, Swift leaping up to perch on a railing.

They didn't speak—the silence spoke for them.

 _You had a nightmare, too?_ Swift's eyes questioned, for once not consumed with vile hatred.

 _Yeah_ , the Doctor looked down at his rugged shoes and let out a deep sigh.

Swift did nothing, just looking forward until she felt the silence was a bit too much. Apparently, the Doctor agreed

"What about?" He dared to ask, knowing that this might just be crossing the icy boundary a bit too far.

Swift started, turning to face him with surprise written on her face.

"My—My family," the stammered. She'd never been comfortable talking about them to the other angels in the cave, and she definitely wouldn't feel at east speaking of them now, to a practical _stranger_.

"They want you to come home."

Swift stared at the Doctor, long and hard. He'd said it like a statement, rather than a question. Surely he hadn't…

"How did you—"

"Oh, I didn't," the man's coffee-colored eyes flashed brightly as he grinned, "I'm just clever."

Swift shook her head wryly. There was simply no end to this stranger's surprises.

"But…" the Doctor stared back at her, and his gaze was steady and piercing. It was amazing how quickly he could change moods like that. "You _do_ remember that there is no way we can find that cave again, right?"

Swift sighed. "Yeah. But really, if we could just find a _clan_ of angels, I could live there. Do… do you know of any angel clans on this planet?" she looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. The Doctor almost laughed.

"Life as an angel on Earth?" he smiled drily at her, "I'm not saying it would be hard for your kind in general, but for one who can't turn to _stone?_ "

Swift shrugged. "It shouldn't be too hard. I could hunt the other life forms easier, right?"

The Doctor said nothing, but his air changed back to that pensive expression he adopted whenever he was thinking—the wide eyes and the face light a blank slate, mouth halfway open. Finally, after several silent minutes of this, he spoke.

"Do you know how much the humans _thrive_ on art?" he sounded fascinated, as if in awe of them and laughing at them at the same time. Swift jerked up, startled. This was _not_ what she had expected from this man.

"It's incredible, really," he continued, "Statues all over the place. It's so _easy_ for angels to hide amongst statues—I've seen it before. Sure, I know it sounds simple and obvious, but it's true."

"But I can't _turn_ into a statue, genius," Swift hissed through her teeth, blushing furiously at her own ignorance.

"Ex _actly_ ," the Doctor stood up abruptly and began to pace back and forth, steepling his hands and grinning largely. Swift shifted uncomfortably.

"There are _tons_ of empty planets out there, sure, but why would there be an angel clan where there's no energy? You have to find a place where you can hunt, and a place where you can hunt _easily_ and _with other angels._ "

"I know that, Oh Brilliant One," Swift rolled her eyes, irritated. This conversation was getting her nowhere. "But, in case you haven't noticed, _I can't get off the planet._ How will you solve that? _"_

"Oh, easy," the brunette beamed and spread his hands out wide. "You can travel with me."

Swift rolled her eyes. "Yeah, _right._ Like you actually mean it. I'm an _angel—_ I _kill_ people like you. I'm sure you don't trust me as far as you could throw me."

"Nah, I think you're pretty good," the Doctor smirked cheekily. "You _have_ heard the phrase 'there's a first time for everything', right?"

"Not… really…" the angel shuffled her wings uncertainly.

"Well, there _is_." He nodded once, as if satisfied. "This is your chance, Swift. Take it."

The girl sighed, staring down at her bare feet. He was right, after all. As much as she hated to admit it, he was her only gateway to get back to her people. All that was left was to follow his lead.


	9. Death

Death—

It was colder than normal.

That was what Swift thought as she found herself in the cave once again.

She was used to the nightmares by now, so they almost seemed like normal dreams. They came to her every night, but she never knew what her people would say to her—each time, it was someone different. First it had been her mother. Then it had gone from that to her best friend, her lifelong mentor, an elder angel that she remembered had always delighted in telling stories.

Tonight there was no one.

 _"Hello?"_ She called, peering around the cavern with wide, curious eyes. No one was here. All was quiet, and her breathing echoed around her, mocking her. Swift tried to steady her breaths, which came out in shallow gasps.

 _What are you so afraid of?_ She asked herself angrily, _These are your people. You know them._ She repeated all these things over and over again in her mind, trying to steady herself.

But her stubborn breaths remained panicked and shallow.

 _What's_ wrong _with you?_ She cursed inwardly, picking up a loose stone and hurling it at a wall in one fluid, furious motion.

It never struck the rock.

Instead, it struck something still hidden in the shadows, something soft, with a dull _thump_.

 _What?_ Swift tilted her head slightly, edging closer to the object. As she moved, a circle of light moved with her, shed by her glowing eyes, bright with energy and life. As she came towards the edge of the wall, Swift's vibrant eyes that held golden-blue flames fell on something. Something that made her heart stop.

" _M—Mum?"_ she whispered, kneeling down on shaky legs and stroking her mother's soft, pale face. It wasn't just pale—it was sickening, tinged green and sunken in to where she looked more like a living skeleton than an angel. Her eye that Swift remembered to glow brighter than anything, even when she was out of energy, were instead lifeless orbs that rolled up towards the roof of the cave.

The angel blinked slowly, raising her feeble hand to let it rest on her daughter's chin.

Neither of them said anything—neither of them could. It seemed impossible to blink, much less speak.

They sat there for what seemed to be hours, not moving, just sharing. They shared the silence, which was worth more than either could imagine—not worlds, but _universes_. They stared into each other's eyes, so different, yet so alike.

Finally, the older angel managed a nod, a slight, pitiful thing that made the woman's smile even more pathetic than it would have been.

 _Look,_ Swift's mother mouthed, her dull eyes slowly drifting just to their left.

Swift turned her head, and yelped in horror as she saw thousands, maybe even _millions_ of Weeping Angels, all sprawled across the ground in various stages of loss. They all looked different, as angels always did, but they all had one thing in common.

Death.


	10. Oppurtunities

Opportunities—

"We're leaving."

"What?"

"Now. We're going. Take me to some angels."

"You can't be serious!"

" _Now."_

The Doctor jerked back, shocked. It was two in the morning in Earth time, they'd both only just woken up, the poor girl was _obviously_ low on energy—

"What are you _waiting_ for!" she yelled at him, snapping him out of his thoughts, " _Let's go!"_

"O—of cour—well, I—uh… sure." The Doctor stuttered, not entirely sure what he was trying to say. Nevertheless, he headed towards the control panel, ducking under the angel's huge, feathered wing as he went. What had gotten into her? Sure, she had been determined to find her family before, but now, _now_ she was on _fire!_ Almost literally, too—the Doctor could feel her eyes burning into his neck as he scrolled through the TARDIS's databanks and chose a random set of coordinates to travel to.

 _Still,_ he thought to himself as he yanked down a well-worn lever, _she_ is _quite fascinating. I'd love to learn a bit more while we travel._

The TARDIS trembled and shook, that familiar wheezing sound serenading the Time Lord as he clutched the nearby rail. Swift stumbled back, surprised, but promptly launched herself into the air. As she pulsed upward, the long primary feathers that fringed her wings retracted, and she hovered easily with them now out of the way.

 _Scratch that,_ the Doctor gaped, amazed, _I'd like to learn a_ lot _more._

The TARDIS's shudders faded to a stop, and Swift practically rocketed towards the doors.

"Wait!" The Doctor cried out as she yanked on the handles, "We don't know what's out…" the doors were flung open wide and the angel was gone.

"…There."

The Doctor sighed, gingerly rubbing his temples before heading out after the girl, muttering darkly to himself all the way.

The landscape was gray and ashy, full of craters and sinkholes. Swift picked her way around the death traps that were scattered around the small meteor they had arrived on.

"You sure there are any other angels here?" she called back towards the TARDIS, eyes blazing with a curious, green-tinged heat.

"Nope!" the Doctor's voice yelled back cheerfully. Swift stiffened and slowly turned around.

"What did you say?" her voice had a menacing tone to it, and her eyes had gone from a soft green to a dangerous scarlet.

"Well, you see," the Doctor began, and the angel groaned inwardly, deeply regretting getting the man started on this rant. "I don't exactly _know_ for _sure_ which planets in the databank have Weeping Angels on them… I just kind of decided to go with it, you know?"

For a moment, Swift only stood there, uncomprehending, until she finally spoke: "couldn't you just… _check it_ …?"

"Oh! Right!" the Doctor grinned cheekily before darting back into the TARDIS. Swift had time to let out a little groan before he was back, a sheepish expression on his face.

"Er—sorry about this. It seems this is one of the planets I… blew up."

"Blew _up?_ " the huntress exploded, " _Blew_ _up?!_ How do you just blow up a _planet?!_ "

"Excuse me if I'm not Good Luck Greg, Miss angel!" the Doctor huffed, taken aback, before sulking back to his ship. "C'mon, let's go to the next planet."

Swift rolled her eyes before following him. Sure, he was a bit of an oddball, and he did have a strange tendency to act like a youngling, but he _was_ her ticket back to her people. After all, there was always a price that came with an opportunity.


	11. 33 Percent

33%

"Are. You. _Kidding?!"_

The Doctor glanced back as Swift's frustrated growl sounded from behind him, visibly flinching at the harsh sound.

"No luck?" he turned to face her as the TARDIS's doors shut and the floor began to tremble.

"I'll give you one guess," she hissed dangerously, leaning on the rail and glaring at the ground.

"Again?" the Doctor shakes his head, laughing halfheartedly in a futile attempt to lighten the mood. "Funny—I run into you angels all the time, but it only seems to happen when I _don't_ need it to."

His uncertain laughter faded into an awkward silence as Swift began to bare her fangs, which, after a week of planet after planet of failure, the Time Lord had _finally_ realized to be a bad sign.

"I… I'll go make coffee," he muttered, pointing stupidly towards a room he used for a kitchen. "How much do you want?"

Swift sighed, drooping slightly. "Just a decent cup."

The Doctor looked back at her as he made his way to the coffee maker. She had been so full of vigor when they had begun their search, but now she seemed so tired…

The chocolate-haired man poured some of the warm brown liquid into a pair of mugs, popping several sugar cubes into his without thinking, and leaving Swift's plain and dark as she liked it. He strode carefully back into the main room, trying as hard as he could to not spill the life-giving fluid.

The angel gave him a single nod as she took her cup, slumping against the wall to sip on it and zoned out while staring at the far side of the TARDIS. The Doctor stared at her without fear of being killed—after a bit over a week, Swift was used to it by now.

 _How interesting,_ his scattered thoughts swirled around in his head to forme one basic conclusion, _she's been at this for so long, the failures are starting to get to her now. Like some sort of run-down battery—she's at thirty-three percent. Soon she might just give up._

For the longest time he just stood, there, leaning against the control panel and sipping lightly on his coffee, his eyes fixed on the weeping angel as she sat in her exhausted daze.

And there they were. The most unlikely pair in the universe, casually drinking their coffee in the control room of a TARDIS.

The Doctor sneezed.

"Hm?" Swift snapped out of her reverie and her head shot in his direction.

"What?" he wiped his nose on his sleeve.

The angel rolled her eyes and pushed herself to her feet, draining her coffee in one massive swig. "Whatever. Let's just get going. What's the next planet?"

"Uh—Chr—"

"Never mind. I'll just see for myself."

The Doctor looked on, stunned at her sudden change in attitude, as she slammed her mug onto the dashboard and strode through the doors with a swish of her dirty white robe, colourful wings held high.

"Huh. So much for thirty-three percent." The Doctor smirked slightly, then mentally slapped himself.

 _Geez, Doctor, that's what you get for thinking of her as a machine. Thirty-three percent, my foot! It seems she's back at a full hundred._

In several more minutes, Swift had returned. She brushed past the Doctor, the fire in her eyes just as bright as before.

 _It seems there's no figuring out this mystery,_ the brunette thought as he watched her retreat to get room.

 _But one thing's for sure. She is_ not _a machine._

He sighed as he went back to the kitchen to fix himself some more coffee.

 _You moron._


	12. Dead Wrong

Dead Wrong

The Doctor laid down on his cot, hands folded behind his head as he stared at the ceiling with eyes the colour of chocolate and a face that held less expression than a brick. This was one of those times that he spent to just think. Not on anything too deep, of course—those thought were fenced off and avoided. But other than that, he let his mind roam free.

The Time Lord's eyes gradually closed as he thought, his focus practically nonexistent as he thought of the TARDIS, then his craving of Earth cheese, and a parallel universe he was currently in the process of making up.

After a while, his mind fell on Swift.

She _did_ look exhausted. Beaten down and worn, and her eyes were the eyes of a soldier. She was desperate, too. He could tell by the black circles around her eyes that she was not only physically tired, but emotionally.

 _Maybe_ _I should put myself in her shoes,_ he pondered, squirming into a more comfortable position as he stared intently at the ceiling.

 _Hi my name's Swift and I like to hunt people because I need the time energy to survive but I haven't had it in a really long time because I've been trapped in a cave with nothing to do except talk and maybe shuffle around a bit because I imagine it was pretty crowded in there too._

The Doctor made a face, not entirely sure if that was offensive or not. He sat up, twiddling his thumbs as he attempted to regain his composure.

"It seems I don't know her all that well," he muttered to himself, but tried again nonetheless.

 _Hmm… Hi I'm Swift. I've been with my family all my life and now I've been suddenly yanked away from them by an extremely attractive man in a suit that I have now tried to kill on multiple occasions._

The man paused, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Getting somewhere…"

after a few minutes, he decided to try a slightly different approach.

"Hi, I'm Swift." He spoke in a voice that was slightly higher than his own.

"I'm the Doctor."

"Why did you take away my powers and my family?"

"Well, I didn't _mean_ to, I—"

"I need to get back. They're starving to death and I need to be with them."

"You _do_ realize you'll starve, too, right?"

"That doesn't matter. It's really nothing I'm not already used to, you know? Plus, you at _least_ owe it to me to find some other angels I can be with, at least. It sure is better than staying with a complete stranger that ruined my life in one fell swoop. Doctor, you took away my _family_ , my _powers,_ my _people_. You owe me _one_ of those, at least."

The Doctor rested his chin on his hand, deep in thought. He was right.

"She probably hates me," he sighed, falling onto his back again. "Maybe it'd be best if I…"

And then his mind was lost once more as he lost focus and began to wonder if he should upgrade the Sonic, start a novel maybe…

"I want some toast," he yawned, and his eyes closed in sleep.

Swift was not asleep.

She sat at the edge of her cot, wings strewn messily behind her. Her hair fell in long, flame-coloured rivulets down her back, reaching to the shoulder blades before trickling out of sight, and therefore mind. Her long, pale fingers twisted and bent as she played with a thick strand of her hair, and she stared at the torn, dirty hem of her white robe with wide eyes.

Soon her gaze drifted from the fabric to past it, and her eyes glowed a conflicted blue-red. In the other room, the Doctor seemed to be doing impressions, but her mind was someplace else entirely, though she wasn't exactly sure where.

Swift was not asleep.

She'd barely even closed her eyes since her last dream several weeks ago. Instead, a strange feeling had been nagging at her nonstop, small at first, but growing to become more than she could handle. Images flashed through her head, images of her mother, her sister, her friend… they stared up at her with pleading eyes made of stone, their mouths open in silent cries of help.

Her bloodshot eyes widened, and her mouth cracked open in a silent groan. There was nothing that hurt her more than seeing other Angels in pain. It had hurt all those centuries she'd been in that cave, and it hurt now. That was one thing she knew would never change, the only thing conserved in this insane world.

 _What's wrong with me?_ She thought desperately to herself, feeling her heart pound faster in her chest and a vein in her neck jut out. It couldn't be her lack of time energy—caught fish and birds took care of that. The Doctor was tolerable, she had faith she was going to find some angels soon, and—

Swift's thoughts screeched to a stop, and her breath caught in her throat.

The Angels. That was it.

She didn't know what, but she felt she was on the verge of something big. All this angst, this fear, this worry she wouldn't be going back—that wasn't it at all. It wasn't that she wanted to go back.

It was that she didn't want to go back at all.

After she closed her eyes, it only took a few minutes for Swift to fall asleep. Her body felt lighter than normal, and it was a strange and unnatural feeling. But there she slept, full of peace in the knowledge that she was dead wrong.


	13. Running Away

Running Away

The Doctor was nervous.

His hearts beat fast in his chest, and he fingered uncertainly with his Sonic. Was he sure this was—

A door opened from behind him, and he whirled around to see Swift emerge from her designated room, her hair messy and tangled and her robe more wrinkled than ever.

"Alright!" he clapped his hands together and rubbed them excitedly, his heart rates going through the roof to reach a number that was most definitely not healthy for anyone. "Let's get this how on the road."

Little by little, the nagging whispers of his uncertainty and fears were drowned out in the sudden roar that was his resolve. He would do this—it was for the best.

"Uh—Doctor…?" Swift began to speak, but the tall brunette man ignored her and dashed over to the controls. If he had actually been paying attention, he would have noticed how different Swift looked; he face was smoothe now instead of creased with lines of worry, the bags under her eyes had faded, and the eyes themselves had regained most of their usual luster. Yes, she was different. She was lighter, more peaceful than she had ever been in her life.

But the Doctor didn't notice.

The familiar feel of the controls under his fingertips was enough for him—it calmed his nerves and solidified his tenacity. It was the only drug he needed right now.

"…I'm thinking the next planet should be somewhere in the general northern direction…" he rambled, totally ignoring the Angel behind him who was trying to get a word in. Swift leaned back on her heels, a frown creasing her features. He was ranting again. Once that train left the station, there was no getting it back.

"Doctor?" she said the name with considerably less patience.

"…I also heard that Angels preferred colder climates—is that true…? Nevermind, I'm sure we'll find something. _Oh,_ I was just thinking…"

Swift rolled her eyes and hissed through her teeth, a bright orange flame sparking her vision for a split second. This was getting annoying.

" _Doctor!"_

"Hm?" he looked up, oblivious. Swift took a deep breath, not entirely sure how he'd take it.

"…About finding other Angels…" she began with a slight tremor of uncertainty in her voice, but the Doctor cut her off before she could get rid of it.

"Don't worry, we'll find them in no time!" he grinned cheerfully. He was sure this was the right thing by now, and he moved the levers and switches around with the fluid ease that comes only with time.

"Well, actually—"

"You'll be _fine_ ," the Doctor beamed brightly at her, but still seemed distracted.

 _Wow_ , she thought, a vein beginning to jut out of her forehead, _the Doctor is about as easy to talk to as a cave bat._

With that familiar wheezing sound, the TARDIS shuddered violently before falling eerily still, signaling they had reached their destination.

"Right," the Doctor snapped his fingers, "let's go!"

"But—hey, _wait!_ " Swift yelled at the man, her slender fingers clenched into fists, but he was already out the door. Her eyes flared red, but she followed close behind.

"There!" the Doctor stood outside of the TARDIS, arms spread wide and grin spread wider. "Beautiful!"

Before them, spread out like a map, was a barren, rocky landscape, void of all but a few stunted shrubs tinted a sickly green and a single creature that scuttled through the rocks to stare at them from a sheltered alcove. The atmosphere was almost nonexistent, and the purplish space above shone through it, huge meteors floating peacefully around in it.

"Umm…" Swift raised an uncertain eyebrow at the landscape, "I don't think this is a place where an angel would want to live…"

"Oh, _sure_ it is," the Doctor was unfazed, forgetting for a moment ho he was talking to. "There are plenty of dark caves, snowy craters, and an endangered species of lizard that is considered a universal delicacy!"

The creature hissed at them, showing few small, sharp teeth, and scuttled away.

"It's perfect!"

Swift rolled her eyes at him again. "Whatever you say."

"Oh, _come on,_ " the Doctor chided, "you'll never know unless you explore it yourself. Just _give it a try_ , alright?"

Swift sighed, her fiery eyes scanning the desolate land once more.

"Fine."

"Great!" the Doctor brightened up, certain this was the right thing to do. "I'll be waiting back in the TARDIS, then. Bye!"

"Whatever," the Angel huffed and began to walk towards a lightly promising-looking crater. Behind her she heard the doors of the TARDIS slam shut.

She walked a few more yards, her mind only on getting this over with, but she couldn't help but think… something didn't seem right…

Swift whirled around at a now-familiar sound, a sound that confirmed her fears.

The TARDIS was groaning.

It wheezed and gasped, blinking out of existence until the sound faded away as well. It happened in an instant, and for a moment, Swift believed it was just a daydream. Why would the Doctor leave her?

But as she tripped over towards where the ship had landed, her fingers brushed against nothingness, and the reality of what had just happened struck her like a fist.

The TARDIS was gone.

The Doctor had left her.

Swift was alone.

Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor was certain he was doing the right thing.


	14. Judgement

Judgment

It took a few minutes for everything to finally sink in.

The TARDIS was gone. There was still a small depression of fine, powdered rock that the ship had made when it had landed, but even that was rapidly disappearing on the light, steady breeze.

The planet was desolate, no sign of the Doctor anywhere, and _still_ , it took time to sink in.

She was alone, and she refused to believe it.

But, eventually, she was forced to.

Swift fell to the ground, the dust around her floating up in small plumes before settling on her skin. Her eyes were wide, her wings were drooping low to the ground and covered in dirt, and her heart was full of something hot, something bright, something she was all to familiar with.

Anger.

Pure, scorching fury that started at her core and blazed through every fiber of her being that filled her veins with a deadly crimson, that made her soul shudder and convulse, whirling around inside her as if eager to escape and wreak havoc.

The Angel's arms shook and her fingers twitched, and she imagined reaching out and wringing the Doctor's neck—

But he was gone. The anger was what made it finally click, and she stopped moving altogether, that sudden burst of rage replaced with a single question, a single word.

 _Why?_

Why did he be with her, why did he take her, why did he break her, why did he _leave_ her?

Why, why, why—it was a simple word that was capable of causing more than just a headache, more than could be described with words.

 _He's such a jerk!_ Swift hissed inwardly, seething outwardly. _He left me for no apparent reason, and he got my hopes up before stranding me on this uninhabited piece of space crap!_ _That stupid Doctor—what a stupid name! 'Righting Wrongs', he said. 'Righting Wrongs'! Well, as I live, he's never going to be able to right this wrong. Never in his life, and most certainly never in mine!_

Soon the young woman's rambling thoughts drifted from

 _Why would he leave me_ here, _of_ all places, _anyways? It's obviously got no chance of having other Angels, and, even if it did, they'd all hate it here! There's no plants at all, hardly any life to feed off of, and it's not anywhere near another inhabited planet, so people won't be coming and going for billions of years! By the elders' wings, I hate this place already!_

Another rock lizard scurried by her, stopping every few paces to give her a nasty glare, occasionally flaring out a hood on its neck to emphasize its point until it was safely behind yet _another_ pile of rocks. Whether it was the same lizard as before or not, Swift couldn't tell. Everything here was so uniform, so gray, so dull, so lifeless, and so utterly _unlikable_.

And, gradually, her thoughts circles on in that same pattern—switching from the Doctor, to what she hated, back to the Doctor, to the planet, and then back to the beginning until the Doctor was the antagonist. A cruel, sadistic character that was forever out to ruin Swift's life, taking her from her family, stealing her powers, and leaving her for dead on a hideous planet with no sign of anything.

"I _hate_ that man," she spat, pushing herself to hear feet. "I _hate that man!"_

She screamed the words over and over again, shrieking until her throat was sore, her breath came in shallow gasps, and it was all she could do to even _think_ it.

But, no matter how many times she rejected the idea, how many times she tried to convince herself otherwise, she could not deny that soft dew in the corner of her soul, the dew that was slowly settling on her anger until if fizzed out—sadness.

A cold, overwhelming sadness that was so different from the anger she was so fond of, the sadness that she wanted to fight but couldn't…

"He… he left…" Swift muttered, easing herself down onto a nearby rock and laying her head in her hands. "I was just about to tell him I didn't want to find other Angles anymore, but… he left…"

Swift stared at the dusty ground, eyes wide and dry. She had been looking forward to travelling with him—seeing the universe, having adventures, getting to do all the things she'd never done in the millennia she'd been buried alive, but… he'd left.

And, whether it was by anger, sadness, or a mixture of both, Swift's judgment was passed, and she was determined never to trust the Doctor again.

Eventually, the light of the nearest star was blotted out at the meteor slowly rotated. Night fell.

Swift was too confused to think, but she was too tired to think. She shook her head in her hands, hissing through her teeth.

A low, long howl sounded from several miles away. The Angel's ears pricked at the unearthly sound, and her heart rate sped up. There it was again, but this time a bit closer.

Swift leapt up from her position, sprinting to the top of a nearby pile of stones and landing in a crouch at the peak. Maybe it was just her eyes playing tricks on her, but she thought she saw some shadows moving on the horizon.

Her blood ran cold.

Her eyes never played tricks.

And though she didn't know what she thought of the Doctor at the moment, she did know one thing:

this was going to be a long night.


	15. Seeking Solace

Seeking Solace

The Doctor was certain he was doing the right thing.

At least, he thought he was certain.

More like hoped he was certain.

He worked the control panel of the TARDIS, not because he had to more than he wanted to. He felt like he had something weighing him down, but he couldn't figure out exactly what it was.

It _couldn't_ be that he'd left Swift—that was exactly what she wanted! To live happily on a planet with other Angels… that seemed like a planet some Weeping Angels would live on. Of course, he wouldn't really know, but he'd found her in a cave, so…

She'd loved it there, right?

"Yep," the Doctor sighed to himself, running his long, pale hands through his messy chocolate hair, "that's definitely what's got to me. Though I _still_ don't see why." He added this last bit after a moment's thought.

He sat down in the grated floor of the TARDIS, slumping onto the railing like a ragdoll. He let out a puff of air that quickly turned into a sigh, then a groan, then a frustrated _tsk_. He could think his way out of a self-destructing space station full of Daleks with only a dead computer, a human eye, and his Sonic, but he still didn't know squat about the inner workings of a Weeping Angel—or most other people, for that matter.

The Doctor's eyes drifted shut, slowly but surely, as he tried to think his way out of this one. He let the TARDIS drift for a few seconds, or minutes, or hours—he couldn't really tell how long he'd been asleep—before he woke with a start and an imaginary light bulb floating over his head—a bulb that was shattered to bits.

"Something's wrong," the Doctor leapt up and promptly began pacing in that way of his, "I can feel it suddenly—I've forgotten something, I've left out something important, and I can't place my finger on it…"

He slapped his hand on the control room's railing over and over again, trying to slap the memory into his brain along with it.

" _Augh!_ " He hissed through his teeth, the feeling nagging at him incessantly, "What did I leave out? I feel like I've gotten onto a plane and found out I'd left my luggage at home after it's already taken off…" the brunette trailed of, his features melting into a singe expression of unbelief, of shock and denial.

"Oh no."

His eyes were wide coffee orbs with exasperation clearly etched into them.

"There were no angels on that meteor."

He stood completely still for a split second before darting over to the control panel and punching in coordinates, a single bead of sweat running down his face, yelling at himself all the while.

" _Ugh_ , I should have _listened_ to her!" He shouted, his voice loud in the emptiness of the TARDIS. "She _told_ me there were no angels on that rock, she _told_ me! But I was juts _too_ eager to leave, wasn't I?"

The Doctor paused in his tracks, his hand hovering several inches above the lever that would send him back.

"She probably hates me," he whispered to himself, stating the plainly obvious. A moment's hesitation.

He pulled the lever, and the TARDIS took off once more.

"She'll understand," he comforted himself with that thought, ignoring the fact that he never has and never will be able to justify things like this that he's done. "I could just tell her I've come back to ask for her help on something…

"Which, in a way, I am.

"She'll understand."

Swift stood atop the pile of boulders, her wings curled tight around her body to conserve warmth. _This rock of a planet can get really cold_ , she thought to herself with the same bitter tinge that came with everything else she did. Bitterness was the only thing the Doctor left her with, and she was determined to use all she had.

The howls had been getting closer for maybe half an hour now, and by now the Angel could clearly see large, dog-like shapes prowling around the base of her hill. One raised its angular head in a strong sniff, and its hollow eyes caught the light as its head swiveled towards her. She hissed at it, showing her large fangs, and it shied away.

Swift was certain she could scare away one, maybe even up to five, but she was also certain that there were _many_ more than that.

A few more heads poked up, alerted by the whimpers of their kin, and they immediately began to crawl up the rubble. With a pointed sigh and a sharp glare, she leapt to her feet and unfurled her wings with a _snap_ , buying her some time with the wolf-creatures shock.

But they quickly recovered, darting up the mountain with twice the speed and twice the malice that gleamed in their eyes in the vague light of the distant stars. Swift growled slightly, surging upward with an abrupt flap of her snowy white wings, barely managing to keep a sustainable hover in the thin atmosphere. Maybe twenty of the creatures below were already at the peak—where she had been mere seconds ago—leaping up with powerful hind legs and snapping at her dangling feet. Swift began to sweat, cold and thick.

With a last powerful surge, she shot herself to the base of the hill, stumbling as she landed, but refusing to stop running. Behind her, her sharp ears could hear the howling of the monsters, the panting of the pack, and even the snap of their powerful, fanged jaws.

And, in the background of it all, she could have sworn she heard the faint sound of…

She almost stopped in her tracks. It was him. The unsteady, droning wheeze, the unmistakable sound of the TARDIS.

A sudden burst of strength surged through the young woman, and she launched herself forward, leaping into the air and circling around to the rapidly forming silhouette of the small blue box.

"Swift!" the Doctor's head popped out of the box, and he immediately caught sight of her. "What are…"

" _Get inside!"_ the Angel's voice cried out from the silvery shadows of the meteor, and the Doctor's eyes widened when he caught sight of the wolfish pack. With a startled _whoa!,_ he ducked back into the TARDIS just in time to dodge the torpedo that was Swift, who barely managed to slam the deep blue doors on the pack of canines. One managed to wedge the door open with its paw, snapping its large jaws and fangs at the girl. With a loud hiss, she gave it a smart kick, sending it careening back out into the night.

And then the doors were closed, and the TARDIS was shaking, and the Doctor was behind her, staring at the wings on her back. Swift's eyes flashed a bright red.

The Doctor was here.

But Swift was still alone.

The rift was back.


	16. Excuses

Excuses

Swift leaned against the railing in the TARDIS's control room, trying to calm her heavy breathing. She had almost died—and just because the Doctor had left her. But—

"Why?" she voiced the word before she even thought it. It was a powerful word, one that circled the small area like a fighter jet and shot missiles at the ship's two inhabitants.

"Why what?" The Doctor was obviously stalling, and ended up saying the worst possible thing there was to say.

Swift rolled her eyes and hissed softly through her teeth. _'Why what', my primary feathers._

"You know 'why what'," her flaming orbs narrowed into slits, and a dangerous growl began to rise from her throat. "Why did you leave me, you dolt?"

The Doctor didn't answer, his September eyes dim and low, cast down like broken records that showed nothing but regret—a feeling he felt way too often, it seemed.

"Well?" The Angel's gravelly voice snapped him back into this dimension, and his eyes snapped up, suddenly searching the air, as if that was so naturally where ideas came from.

"Well—" he nodded, snapping his fingers and only barely keeping himself from pacing the floor, "Well, you wanted to be with other Angels, right?"

Wrong again, Doctor.

Swift bared her fangs at him, black flecks of ash darkening her vision.

"We both know there were no Angels on that floating hunk of space rock, Doctor."

The Doctor looked down, his face turning a dull red.

"Well, I know that _now,_ but—"

"Give me a real answer."

There was no good response to that except the truth.

They stood in the TARDIS for a few seconds, not only in the TARDIS, but also in silence. The Doctor could always tell her the truth—she was an angel, he was a Time Lord… they were _bound_ to turn on each other some time—but he didn't. She'd probably hate him even more for saying that.

"I just thought you didn't want to travel with me anymore," he muttered dumbly. "You'd probably do better finding your people on your own anyways."

Swift rolled her eyes. She knew he was lying.

"Tell me the truth. Tell me what you're really thinking—do you have better things to do? More 'wrongs to right'? Or is it just that you can't stand helping one of the universe's worst enemies—even if _you're_ the one that's made me _useless_!"

Her voice was a sudden roar, the crack of thunder following the bolt of lightning. The Doctor flinched back, and the Weeping Angel to that to mean her assumptions were right.

"I knew it," she murmured, eyes glaring at the metal grating of the TARDIS now. Her clenched fists were shaking—with what, the doctor couldn't tell. Anger? Confusion? He stood his ground now, staring with wide eyes as the Angel's eyes dimmed from their bright, bloody scarlet to a soft, quivering, blue-tipped white.

He thought he knew her well enough by now—her eyes showed her emotions better than she herself could—but this was new. Blue and white? This was a combination he'd never seen before. For once in his long, long life, the Doctor was clueless, astounded.

And Swift. No matter how much she didn't want to admit it, the Doctor's actions had hurt her. She managed to hold the few tears that threatened the corners of her eyes back, but she knew her irises were showing clearly what she was keeping in. After all this time in that little pit of a cave she'd called home for so long, she finally had the chance to get out and have someone take her places she'd never have gotten to see otherwise.

And he'd left her, stranded on a planet full of demon wolves, just like the monster she was. Maybe it was the fact she was an Angel, maybe it was specifically her—she didn't know. But she _did_ know one thing—whatever she had done, she regretted nothing.

 _If the Doctor has beef with me_ , she snarled to herself, eyes flickering back to a determined orange, _he can straight-out say it. If he's a wimp, that's his problem._

"Swift?" The Doctor broke through the Angel's inward rant, and her eyes snapped back towards him. He squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze.

"Yes?"

it was a dare, a challenge. Say something bad about me. Just you try.

"I… um…" he regained his composure—the Doctor didn't normally stammer like this, but, the again, he didn't normally lie to a Weeping Angel. He didn't normally interact with Weeping Angels at all, except to occasionally fight them.

"I came back to ask your help with something," he finally burst out, immediately searching for something to need her help for. _This was a poorly thought-out excuse, eh Doctor._ He thought ruefully, opening his mouth to spit out an excuse for Swift to travel with him again.

"Leave it," the Angel held up a pale, slender hand. The Doctor froze, confused. "I don't even want to hear it. Whatever it is, I'm not helping."

The Doctor couldn't help but let out a nearly inaudible sigh of relief.

 _At least you don't have to make up any more excuses,_ he thought bitterly as Swift left for her room. _Now how to make her stay?_


	17. Vengeance

Vengeance

Anger is all Swift could feel, the anger she'd experienced back on that rock of a planet the Doctor had abandoned her on. It had been rekindled, if only by his dismissive excuses. Rekindled, and flaring up hotter than before

Anger.

It was an emotion she often associated with power, perhaps because that's just what it gave her, and she loved it. Not only loved it, but embraced it. Not only embraced it, but _fed_ it.

This new fury needed to be fed. And she was more than willing to feed it.

The Angel stretched her wings as wide as she could in her still-familiar room. White, then green, then orange. Her eyes flared red, tinged with cinders of inky black, and the girl absentmindedly combed out the dirt from her bark-brown hair, all the way down to the fiery orange tips.

She remembered the Doctor staring at her back when they'd first met—probably at these very things. They _were_ on opposite ends of the spectrum, after all.

Swift suppressed a wave of nostalgia. It was no use missing the past—all that friendship she though she'd felt back then was dead and gone, if it had ever existed at all.

She laid down on her cot, her winds bent out at odd angles underneath her. It looked painful, but it was a strangely comfortable position, which is exactly what she needed right now. Comfort.

After a while, the Weeping Angel drifted off into a deep, undisturbed sleep.

The Doctor leaned on the TARDIS's console, staring blankly at the ceiling and letting out a long, slow sigh. He suppressed a wave of nostalgia at the same time Swift did, and tried not to dwell on the past, just as she did.

Yeah, he'd made a lot of mistakes. Too many, it seemed. But that never stopped people from coming into his life.

 _I wish it did, though,_ the chocolate-eyed man sighed once more and reached into his pocket. He drew out a photograph, one he'd printed out of his past companion, Donna. He couldn't let himself forget her—or anyone else. Just alongside the ginger's photo was one of a tall, blonde girl that was grinning brightly at him.

Rose, Bad Wolf, he remembered her well. At least she remembered him, too.

Swift woke with a start. She didn't know what had caused her eyes to snap open, but she didn't care. Now she was rested, and the Angel could feel her energy flooding back to her, slowly but surely.

With a yawn and a wide stretch that took up the whole room, she wondered how she could get away with staying, but also getting revenge. Nothing too big, just enough to make her feel better.

"Hmm…" she sighed, playing with some of her primary feathers. "Maybe if I sliced up his back…" she plucked a loose feather from her wing, fingering its razor sharp edge before sticking it in her hair. With a small smile, she stood up, stretching her legs.

"Yeah," she flapped her wings a few times, "that'll make me feel better. _Definitely_."

And with that, she cracked her door open, ready to pounce.

 **A/N Hey guys, sorry this one's who short. I think the chapters might start to get a bit longer from here on out, seeing as the plot is thickening and gaining substance**


	18. Love

Love

The Doctor leaned against the TARDIS' control panel, staring up at the ship's high ceiling. Letting out a cold sigh, he laid his hand on the lever he pulled that always signaled the start of his adventures. Yes this was definitely an adventure. But the Doctor wasn't sure it would last.

 _How could I be so_ stupid _?!_ He hissed inwardly, clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut. _I can't believe I actually_ left _her on that rock. Why?_

Whirling around, the tall brunette slapped his palms against the dashboard, breathing heavily with self-hatred. _I know why. Oh, gosh, I'm so selfish…_

She made him uncomfortable. She was an Angel, one of his enemies—why shouldn't she? He hadn't been thinking of her when he'd dumped her off at all.

 _Ugh,_ the man's russet eyes glinted in the light of the TARDIS. _I'm pitiful. I can't keep anyone, can I?_ He laughed bitterly, bending his head down to stare at his beloved TARDIS. _But why not?_ _I could always just… tell her the truth._

 _No!_ He argued with himself. _That's a sure way to get her to leave._

Almost without thinking, the Doctor walked over to a panel in the side of the wall. Softly creaking it open, his slid his hand in and withdrew a small picture frame. The compartment was filled with them, but they were all different, and by now he knew them all by touch.

The Time Lord stared down at the frame, the wound of her departures till fresh.

"Donna," he moaned, staring down at his past companion. "What am I doing wrong?"

Swift could feel her muscles uncoil, hey eyes soften, her anger fade as she looked on. This man was just like her.

With all the stealth of a Weeping Angel, she made her way over to the man, standing behind him with a face void of expression.

"You loved her, didn't you?" It wasn't a question as much as a statement.

He sighed, not turning to face the angel.

"I did the best I could."

 **A/N sorry this one's so short, but it gets to the point. Also, sorry for kinda dragging this on, but I have to get all the themes—this is where it starts picking up, and the adventure legit begins.**

 **Hope you don't give up on this just yet~**


	19. Tears

Tears

The Doctor sat in his room, alone. It wasn't the first time he'd been alone, and it most certainly wasn't the last. But this time it was something more.

It hurt, his memories of Donna, when they wound themselves up into thin needles, trying to jab their way into the front of his mind. Usually, he kept them pent up and hidden, but this time they slipped through his defenses with ease.

The Time Lord groaned loudly, squeezing his eyes shut and falling backwards onto his cot. Why did this always happen? The tall brunette was hardly ever still—buzzing around from planet to planet like a bee, he did all he could to keep busy.

But when he _was_ at rest, oh when he _was._

"Why do they always come when I'm still?" He muttered to himself, rolling over to stare at the wall.

 _Oh, come_ on _, Doctor,_ a strong voice next to him replied with a smirk in her voice. _Pull yourself together._

"Donna?" The man shot up, looking around. The room was empty, but he could almost _feel_ the human woman's presence.

"But she's not…" The Doctor's brow furrowed in confusion.

 _I'm not a ghost, idiot._

Yep, it was definitely Donna.

 _This is all in your mind._

The mocha-eyed man clenched his fists, staring at the floor with wide eyes. "…What?"

 _Yeah, I'm still alive and well on Earth. But that doesn't mean I can't also be alive and well in your mind._

"But you—"

 _Ugh_ , the fiery redhead's voice was loud and clear at this familiar sound. _It' the same deal, Doctor. Yeah, I've forgotten you. But that doesn't mean you have to forget me. Honestly, I thought you were supposed to be some kind of genius._

The Doctor sighed, rubbing his head sheepishly. "I… I guess you're right. I've tried to push you to the back of my mind…"

 _Well, how's that working for you?_ He could hear the wry smile in his past companion's voice. He didn't answer.

 _Listen,_ Donna's echo grew serious. _You can't just forget us. Everything happens for a reason, and if you forget, then those reason go to waste. Not to mention the little fact that you lose quite a few stories to tell your new companion._

The Doctor stiffened. "She's not my—"

 _You keep telling yourself that. But isn't she? You want her to stay—admit it._

"Well… yeah, but—"

 _Enough said. Now you need to go tell her you want her to stay. Got it?_

"But… but she'll—"

 _She'll what?_ The Donna in the Doctor's mind interrupted again, knowing she was right. _Kill you? You idiot. If she wanted to kill you, she would have done it when you were looking at your picture back there._

The brunette closed his eyes, taking long, shaky breaths. His mental Donna was right—they both knew it.

"Oh, gosh, I'm so stupid." His breaths wouldn't slow. They got fast and wet, shakier and shakier. Nothing would stop it.

 _You just realized?_ The shadow laughed softly before adopting a more gentle tone. _Hey. Don't do that._

"Do what?" The Time Lord began to sniff.

 _Don't cry. That's not what you're supposed to do now. You're_ supposed _to be happy that the Angel doesn't want to kill you. Then you go and ask her to travel with you. Got it?_

The Doctor smiled, nodding his head.

"Got it."

 _Good._ Donna's voice began to fade. _In that case, my work here is done._

"Bye, Donna," the man waved at nothing.

 _Bye… oh wait—one more thing._ The woman's voice was getting softer, and the Doctor had to strain his ears to hear her.

 _Don't forget us, all right?_

"Yeah," his expression turned grim. No reply. With a hushed sigh, the Doctor leaned forward, clasping his hands together in thought.

"So long, Donna," he said to nothing.


	20. My Inspiration

My Inspiration

The morning came and went, but nothing stirred in the TARDIS. It's not like the two inhabitants of the ship would know it was morning, anyways—there was no sunrise in space.

Eventually, though, their internal clocks and growling stomachs woke them both up. It was around noon in Earth time when they both made their way into the main room of the TARDIS.

Swift froze upon seeing the Doctor, her expression guarded. Sure, she'd begun to forgive the brunette, but that didn't mean she was totally at ease with him just yet.

"Uh—hello, Swift," the Doctor gave a tired, sheepish smile as he walked to the little kitchen to get his coffee. "Want any?"

The Angel didn't answer, nodding warily instead. It didn't take long for the morning drink to be ready, and soon the tall man was padding his way back towards the ginger with two cups of the steaming liquid in hand.

"Here," he handed the darker brew to Swift, offering another small smile on the side. "Drink and be merry, eh?"

The redhead didn't respond, simply taking the coffee and sipping at it distractedly. The Doctor sighed, taking a dark swig of his drink before walking over to the opposite railing and leaning on it across from her.

They sat there for a while, the Doctor in his burgundy bathrobe and Swift in her tattered white robe. Their eyes met, locked in a staring contest. Ever-changing fire versus calm, steady brown—there couldn't be much more of a difference.

"Hey," the Doctor finally broke the silence, staring down into his coffee awkwardly. "I'm sorry for… well, you know what I'm sorry for."

Swift didn't speak, just nodded slowly, her expression neutral as she drank.

"And…" the Time Lord offered another one of his smiles—how he managed to make it look slightly wild and apologetic at the same time, no one would ever know. "And I want to know if you'll travel with me.

At that, Swift's mask broke, morphing to an instant look of shock. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could speak, the Doctor was at it again.

"I mean, I get it if you don't want to, if you just want to go to a planet and hang out there until someone else comes or something like that," his words came out in a jumbled rush, uncertain and bunched together as he picked at his dark navy pajama pants. "But I just wanted to ask. And, Swift, I _swear_ that we'll find your family if you travel with me, just—"

"Doctor," Swift interrupted, her voice low and gravelly with morning, "I… I actually have been trying to tell you…" she laughed softly, more to herself than to her companion. "I'm not searching for them anymore."

"What?" The Time Lord was confused, to say the least, his brow furrowing and his eyes squinting. "I don't exactly understand."

"Well, there's not much _to_ understand," she shrugged, taking a quiet sip of her coffee. "There… there was nothing for me there. They've survived perfectly fine until now, and they'll survive on their own until another traveller comes. Really, there's nothing I can do to help them, anyways…"

The Doctor sat on the railing, stunned into a wide-eyes silence.

"Well, then," he nodded softly to himself, "I take that to mean you'll travel with me again…?"

Swift narrowed her eyes into a soft, playful glare. "You need to stop taking things so lightly, old man," she smiled at him, showing her fangs.

"Hey," the Doctor held up his hands in mock offense, "I'm only a bit over nine hundred! I don't look it, do I?" He grinned cheekily at the Angel.

"Eh," she shrugged, a humorous gleam in her eye. "It shows every now and then."

With a joyous laugh, the Doctor drained his coffee in one swift gulp before dashing over to the control panel and slapping his hands excitedly on the dashboard.

"So!" Swift leapt lightly off the railing, stretching her wings wide and gliding over to him. "Where to now?" Her feet barely made a sound as they touched the floor, but the faint vibration they caused in the metal grating drew the Time Lord's gaze to the kitchen, where he has a yellowed, tattered photograph of the planet Earth hanging on his wall. It wasn't that old, according to the era Donna now lived in—taken from when the humans had first made it into space.

"Hmm…" he let a smile grace his lips as he fingered a few controls on the panel. "I'm thinking Earth."

"Earth?" Swift made a face. "Never heard of it. Sounds boring."

The Doctor beamed, shaking his head vigorously. "Oh, it's not. The humans there aren't advanced as far as most other races, but they more than make up for it in willpower. I've known quite a few, myself. They inspire me." He sighed, closing his eyes and imagining his many adventures on Earth—though he was trying his best to focus on the good parts.

"Yes," he began to thumb in the all-too familiar coordinates for Earth, a bit after the time he'd left Donna. "They're strange, emotional creatures, humans. But they're inspiring to watch. Hmm…" he rested his hand on the familiar lever that had led to so many adventures before, " 'My Inspiration', eh?" he opened his eyes, staring straight at Swift.

"I rather like the sound of that."

And, with that, the Doctor pulled the lever, sending the ship into a fit of wheezing and shaking, Swift attempting to hover in a flurry of white, green, and orange in the middle of it all.

 **A/N**

 **Me again, hello. Well, things seem to be picking up here, and if you're reading this, I'm glad you hung on for this long. If the story was drawn out earlier, it won't be any more, because that was me attempting to get through the themes—the ones from here on out actually have plot to them and aren't just fillers. I'm not exactly saying they'll be longer—but I'm not saying they won't. Also, I'm** _ **mega**_ **pumped I'm already on chapter 20! I'm 1/5 through the story!**

 **I love your reviews, and even if it's just a comment or a joke, I like to reply and interact with you guys. So I hope you like this story, and I look forward to the next chapter.**

 **Later~**


	21. Never Again

Never Again

Earth was bluer than Swift expected.

"Oh, _yeah,_ " the Doctor nodded casually. "It's three-fourths water, and they _still_ have to deal with drought."

Swift wrinkled her brow, staring at the small planet. "Weird."

The Doctor nodded in sage agreement. "Very weird."

It was another bumpy landing for the Doctor, but he was used to it. Swift, however, was not—this wasn't the first time she'd been grateful for her wings to steady her. As soon as the TARDIS settled down, she bolted out the doors, throwing them open and standing in the light of a new planet.

Or that's what she was expecting. What she didn't expect were those same watercolour fields and rolling hills as she saw on that planet she'd caught the fish and fowl on all those weeks ago.

"This is Earth?" She frowned. She knew that she really had no right to judge—she'd lived in a _cave_ for who knew how long—but Earth seemed a bit… ordinary.

The only weird thing was the amount of pale white mixed into the sky. Even in other planets she'd visited, there hadn't been half as much of that colour.

"What's all that?" Swift asked, gesturing at the somewhat morose expanse of billowing white above her.

"What, the rainclouds?" The Doctor crossed his arms as he stared up at the sky. "That's when water turns into gas and decides it would be fun to make the humans all wet. It happens a lot here because, like I said, there's so much water. Especially on island countries like this—we're in Scotland, by the way."

"Because I _definitely_ know what all that means," the Angel muttered under her breath. "So what now?" She spoke this next part louder, her eyes following a raven that flew overhead.

"Eh," the Doctor shrugged, screwing up his face in thought. "I was thinking food? We don't really have much for breakfast on the TARDIS, and I'm pretty sure we're both hungry."

As if on cue, Swift's stomach let out a pitiful little warble, just for her, so that the Doctor couldn't hear.

"Yeah," she stared out at the vast expanse of grass that rippled out in front of her. "That sounds good. But… where do we go?"

" _Well_ ," the Doctor began with a grin, and Swift couldn't help but feel as if she'd let loose a rant. "I know a nice town just near here, with a _great_ internet café that hast stuff like coffee, fish, those strange little croissant sandwiches you get at almost every coffee shop and make you start craving them like the owners have slipped a little drug in there or something, hot chocolate…"

Swift tuned out with a smile, walking beside the Doctor in a generally westward direction. This might take a while.

They had only reached the forest, however, when the Doctor turned to face the Angel, his expression sober and grim.

"Swift," he said, suddenly serious. "I'm not going to leave you again, all right?"

Swift sighed softly, nodding once. "Yeah, I know. We've been over this, remember?"

"Yeah," the brunette waved his hand dismissively in the air, "but I just need to get the point across—there'll be no more running, no more leaving until you find out what you want to do."

Swift smiled slightly, a single fang poking out of her mouth as she felt his promise on a deeper level. "Never again."


	22. Online

Online

"So this is an… internet café?" Swift asked, peering around at the interior of the little shop.

"Yep!" The Doctor beamed. "You like it?"

"Surprisingly… yeah." Swift nodded approvingly. "It's actually kinda adorable."

It was a rather small shop, but it felt more cozy than crowded. The nutty scent of brewing coffee spilled throughout the area, and the walls were a comfortable shade of brown. There was a short line at the counter, and you could see various pastries and those croissant sandwiches the Doctor had raved about on display. Chalkboards sprawling with different kinds of coffee and how much they cost were attached to the wall above the counter, and the place gave Swift an overall homey vibe.

"How's that disguise treating you?" The Doctor asked, nodding towards the clothes he'd gotten for the Angel. It wasn't anything too over-the-top—a loose shirt, some comfortable jeans and a black hoodie were enough to make her look human.

"Okay," Swift nodded distractedly, peering at the chalkboards and gawking at all the different types of caffeine. "What can I get?"

The Doctor shrugged, not seeming to worry about the potential cost. "Eh. I don't really care—as long as it's enough to hold you over until lunch."

"All right then," Swift grinned, stepping into line. She wasn't entirely sure how this currency thing worked, but she could count, and that's all that really matters.

A few minutes later, the Angel seated herself at a table with two dozen croissants, a Stone-Cold Frappuccino, and a satisfied smile on her face. The Doctor was content with a Cinnamon Vortex off the secret menu and a warm blueberry muffin.

The two enjoyed their food in silence for a while, munching away peacefully. Travelling through time and space is exciting and all, but with so many big things going on, it's so much easier to enjoy the little things.

Swift's food was gone in a matter of minutes—tangible food was much better dining than time energy, which tastes oddly of vanilla and dill pickles. The Doctor was taking his own sweet time with his muffin, so Swift stood up and began to pace around the shop, peering around at all the little things lining the shelves and walls.

As her gaze swept around the room, it fell on the screen of someone's laptop. They weren't looking at anything particularly interesting—nothing but a collection of sculptures by some human artist, probably for a school project. Swift was about to look away when she saw something strange. Something she really didn't expect to see on this planet.

"Doctor?" She hissed, darting over to her companion and making him nearly spit out his coffee.

"What?" He asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

"Doctor, there's something you need to see."

The Time Lord knew those words well enough to realize he was about to have another adventure, and he couldn't help but give a little smirk.

"Show me."

The two passed by the kid and his laptop again, watching as he copied and pasted the picture onto a PowerPoint. The Doctor examined it closely, somehow looking discreet at the same time. He narrowed his eyes and scowled deeply at the photo.

"It's a Weeping Angel," he walked onwards, scratching the back of his neck in thought.

"Yeah, I _know_ ," Swift sighted, rolling her eyes and putting her hands on her hips in the sassiest manner possible. "But why is she there?"

The Doctor turned to face his accomplice, grinning brightly. "I have absolutely no idea."

"Uh- _huh_ ," Swift frowned. "Well, then what do we do?"

Without warning, The Doctor ran out of the store, leaving Swift standing alone for a few seconds before she realized what was happening.

"Hey, wait!" She yelled, blasting out after him. "Where the heck are you going?!"

"To the TARDIS!" the Doctor called over his shoulder, and Swift pushed herself to catch up with him. "We're going on an adventure!"


End file.
